1000 Good Intentions
by Sheppard SD
Summary: A nearly forgotten birthday sends Fox into a frenzy as he must help a long-time family friend prepare a "celebration" for his special someone. Nonsensical, hilarious shenanigans will ensue. Is it obvious that I was pressed for time? (Birthday gift)


**Didn't bother proofing this just to get it up in time lolololol**

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 **[X]**

Cloudless skies, gusty winds, and early autumn temperatures made for a perfect day in the life of one Fox McCloud. For once, he could actually put the top down on his car and feel that crisp air comb over his pelt. The leaves were changing colors, the air was becoming drier, and soon, the temperatures would fall and Fox's winter coat would begin to grow in. Now, however, was the perfect day to enjoy sitting outside and not have to worry about slaving over a computer to write a goddamn story.

Fox glanced at his dash and saw his destination was soon approaching. Carving through miles of straight county roads was not the most interesting of experiences, since most of the time he was surrounded on either side by hundreds of acres of cornfields. Now, as he finally got into town, the experience was much more bearable. The small town didn't have much, just the "downtown" area with a few shops and businesses, while residential houses spider-webbed outward. The town as a whole looked very inviting and quiet. One could probably walk from one side to the other in less than ten minutes.

He turned on the third street down, then continued on before pulling to a stop on the side of the road directly in front of a narrow two story home. Polished pearly white siding coated the house, contrasting the dark blue shingles and shutters. A clean sidewalk extended from the patio to the street, lined on either side with flowers gently swaying in the breeze. A single car sat in a gravel patch behind the house, just in front of a single car garage.

Fox exited his vehicle and approached the house with no hesitation. He soon knocked on the door. His surroundings were so quiet that he could hear footsteps within the house progressively get louder and louder until the click of the deadbolt unlatching filled his ears. As the heavy front door peeled inward, a familiar face greeted him, beaming as he realized who it was.

"Oh, Fox! This is such a surprise!"

For those in the audience that haven't read _First Contact_ , shame on you for one. For two, the one that greeted Fox at the door was a little arctic vulpine by the name of Vince. Ya know, _that guy_. He was in a few other stories around here too, like _Another Station; Another Mile_ , and Elarix's _The Hunting Party_ ; so unless you've been living under a rock, you should know what he looks like and how he talks. If, for whatever reason, you haven't read any of those before, one: why are you here? And two: Vince is a bit on the short and thin side of the spectrum with a tuft of white hair atop his head. Usually seen in a lab coat that may or may not be clean.

"Hey Vince," Fox smiled back just as Vince lunged forward, hugged him, and then practically pulled him inside. "Why, yes, I'll come in."

"It's so good to see you again!" Vince said excitedly, his bushy tail wildly flicking. "I wasn't expecting you to come all this way! What are you doing here?"

"Just wanted to stop by and say hello," he answered. "Is Phoenix here?"

"He's at work right now," Vince replied, swiping a water bottle from the kitchen counter.

"Oh," Fox's ears sagged slightly. "Well, when he gets back, can you give this to him and say it was from me?"

He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small envelope no larger than his phone. Vince, as curious as he was, couldn't help but peek inside once he got his paws on the envelope. The white fox laughed softly.

"Lizard Quick gift card eh?" he smirked. "He does like his spicy Cornerian based ethnic foods. What's got you in the giving mood?"

Fox scratched the back of his neck and sheepishly smiled. "Well, you'd think that with him being so similar to me appearance-wise, I'd know what to get him for his birthday. I really didn't know what else to get him—"

"Wait," Vince interrupted. "What?"

Fox raised a brow. "What?"

The two of them just stared at each other, hoping one or the other would explain further.

Fox leaned his head forward. "I said I didn't know what else to get him for his birthday, because I—"

Vince's jaw unhinged like a broken forklift. The card in his hand unceremoniously dropped onto the countertop with a less than satisfying slap.

Fox's eyes soon widened. "You forgot, didn't you?"

Curling his lips inward, Vince ever so slightly nodded his head.

"Are you serious?" Fox nearly stammered. "How could you forget his birthday?"

"Well, he never says anything to me about it," Vince started to whine, tucking his tail between his legs. "I've got so many other numbers to worry about on a daily basis. I can't remember one day when I never get reminded of it."

"That _one day_ is your husband's birthday for crying out loud," Fox slapped his forehead. "C'mon Vince, you seriously didn't remember?"

"Oh, and I suppose you haven't forgotten your wife's birthday?" Vince tried to argue.

"Krystal won't let me forget her birthday," Fox explained. "Lest I get banished outside of FurFur and Xengo's ideal universe for a few days."

Vince let out a regretful sigh. "Damn, I did totally forget," he grumbled. "Fox, you gotta help me."

"Help with what?"

"Phoenix won't get back home until six," he explained, scurrying around to pick up his keys, wallet, ect… "That gives us a good five hours to throw something together."

"You're serious," Fox deadpanned.

"As serious as that overused joke from _Another Station_ ," Vince quipped. "Come on Fox, please help me! I don't wanna go back to the couch again!"

"Okay, okay, fine, I'll help," Fox reluctantly agreed. "Where to first?"

"We'll need to go a few miles north up to Genericport," said Vince, pushing Fox out the door just as fast as he pulled him in. "They have a few shops I always go to. We should probably stop first at— _is that your car?_ "

Fox saw Vince damn near drooling at the sparkling sliver piece of machinery sitting beside the front lawn. "Yea, it's a—"

"I know what it is!" Vince interjected, stopping before the passenger door. "How did you afford this?"

"I can't say all of it was my work," Fox chuckled, stepping behind the wheel of his exquisite roadster. "Part of it was profit from Star Fox, part was a profit from that investment in Sheppard Studios, and the rest was Krystal's contribution from her modeling job. She wanted this just as bad as I did."

"Didn't she want to come?" Vince asked as he took the notion to step inside.

"Well, she's not the focal point of this story," he explained. "When I told her, she decided to stay home with Marcus."

"Oh, okay," Vince replied as Fox attempted to pull out onto the street. During the short time he was inside, a large red truck had pulled up and parked in front of him, trapping Fox's car between that truck and the blue sedan behind him. Fox looked back and forth between the two vehicles, glanced into his mirrors, looked at his surroundings again, and repeated this process a few times while his hand quivered on the stick shift.

Vince shot a puzzled look his way. "Fox."

"I'm stuck," he replied.

"You have plenty of room," Vince said, poking his head out above the windshield.

Fox hummed to himself and inched forward. He stuck it in reverse, turned the wheel over and over, and inched back. Then he did it again, only going forward this time.

"Fox, you're not moving."

"Shut up, I can do this," Fox grunted, tongue hanging out of his muzzle.

"We're wasting time here; just let me drive."

Fox made a game-show buzzer sound as Vince started to reach for the wheel. "I am the designated driver here."

"But I'm not drunk."

"You might as well be, forgetting your husband's birthday," Fox muttered. "I still can't believe that."

Fox slowly started to inch out onto the street, but still was overly cautious of potentially scraping his front bumper on the back of the truck. His foot barely lifted off the brake pedal, moving the car forward at a speed a glacier would consider slow.

"Did you get your license from a cereal box?" Vince rhetorically questioned.

"Don't make me turn this car around," Fox deadpanned.

"We haven't even moved from the bloody curb," Vince nearly shouted.

As Fox finally moved onto the road and started actually covering ground, he turned to Vince and said, "You know, you're really ungrateful for me taking time out of my busy day to help you with something you forgot."

"Sorry Fox, I'm just really antsy," the arctic fox explained. "I just feel like we don't have enough time."

"We'll be fine, Vinny," Fox assured. "Just stay calm and we'll get this done."

It didn't take long for the vulpine's sleek roadster to link back up with the county road. In just as much time, he was accelerating past city limits and making a beeline north. Thus, the never-ending stretch of cornfields and farmland returned with a vengeance. It would be like this for another half-hour before the riverside township of Genericport would come into view.

"So, tell me, Vince," Fox said over the roar of wind filling the car. "You and Phoenix have been living together for close to six years, have been engaged half the time, and your first anniversary will be coming up in the next couple of months. Yet, with all this time, you still can't remember his birthday unless someone tells you?"

"It's not that easy," Vince defended himself. "Look, I work with a lot of goddamn numbers every day. I have to remember a lot of goddamn numbers week after week. Do you really expect me to remember four sequential numbers when I'm only reminded of them once every year? I've memorized enough mathematical and sequential number combinations to justify saying I shouldn't even _have_ a spouse right now, let alone remember their birthday."

"Have you ever considered writing it down? Like, in a calendar or something?"

Vince looked at Fox as if he had seven sets of eyes. "And confuse myself with even more numbers? I purposely don't remember dates and times on a daily basis because that would throw off my mental calculations. Speaking of which, what year is it?"

"I don't know; look at the publication date up there," Fox huffed. "Anyway, I'll believe your explanation for now. Here's the real question though: what are we getting?"

"We obviously need a cake," Vince started. "A close friend of mine works at a bakery up there, so that won't be a problem. Then, while we wait for that, we can go look for a gift. I have a general idea of what he would want, but I'll need your help to narrow down the choices. After that, drop me off at Maxx's, and then we'll pick up the cake and go back home. Simple."

"Sounds like a good plan," Fox nodded his head. "I know a general way around town but you'll have to point out specifics. I've never heard of Maxx's before, what is that?"

"Oh, it's just a place I like to go to," Vince answered. "It won't take me more than a few minutes to get what I need and be out."

"What's there?"

"It's nothing, really," the white fox began to show a little color in his face.

"No no, I'm curious," Fox insisted. "I've seriously never heard of that place before."

"It's probably for the best," he muttered.

"Tell me?"

"I don't want to."

Fox sighed. "Fair enough. I'll find out sooner or later.

 **[X]**

 _Mitzi's Bakery._

"Here it is," Vince said, pointing to a sign hanging over a little corner shop. The faded pink and white lettering just showed that the place had been in business for quite some time, so obviously Vince knew they did their job well. They pulled into the parking lot and wasted no time in entering the little store.

The smell of fresh bread, warm icing, and baked goods swirled together and shot right into Fox's nose. The concoction of scents was heavenly, instantly reaffirming his idea about the shop before they even entered. Isles of numerous foods and decorative items lined the walls, while at the front of the shop, the near visible trail of divine aromas flooded out from behind the counter. Fox eyed every single good, salivating by the time Vince led him to the front of the store.

"Oh my goodness, it's Vince!" a hyper female voice shouted. "It's good to see you aga— FOX!"

Fox jerked his head around only to see a flash of the color copper before realizing he was lying on the ground. As his vision returned, all he saw was an enlarged nose and two light blue eyes staring down at him. The voice finally registered.

Now, unless this is the first time you've ever read a Sheppard Studios story, you'll know who that energetic plume of copper is. Hell, surely at one point or another you've heard of Sheila Spitz. The caffeinated plume of cinnamon hair just stared down at Fox with a grin that stretched beyond the bounds of her face. Just as Fox realized who it was, the entire left side of his face soon fell victim to a slobbery, affectionate lick.

"I haven't seen you in ages!" Sheila bellowed, forcefully yanking Fox up to his feet. "How are you? What are you doing here? How's life?"

"It's great to see you too, Sheila," Fox replied, wiping his arm over the side of his face only to spread the "love" even further. "I didn't know you worked here."

"I love baking cakes," she sighed in bliss as she trotted around the front counter. Her apron had trails of frosting and flower coating it, and… it honestly looked like all she was wearing was that little apron. "Cake is great. That's why I make it. I get to take home the extras at the end of my shifts."

Fox took a shameful look down at Sheila's physique, which was just as thin and toned as he remembered it.

"Wolf eats most of it," she explained as if she knew what his next question would be. "He likes cake too. Hey, are you two here to get a cake? I can make you the best cake. No other cake will be better than mine. I am the best cake baker that you have ever known."

"Good, because we're gonna need the best one you can make," Vince smiled. "It's for Phoenix. His birthday is today."

"Awwww, I love Phoenix!" Sheila squealed shamelessly. "He's like a little, goofier Fox. I'd be happy to. Do you have anything special you have in mind or do you just want the usual?"

"Let's stick with the usual," Vince replied. "We'll try something new next time. We're in a little bit of a hurry."

"Yea, usually you or Phoenix puts in a call a few days in advance," the husky said, resting her muzzle atop her hands. "Did you forget?"

"Yes, I'll admit I almost forgot about his birthday," Vince admitted. "Luckily Fox reminded me before I forgot completely."

"Well it was a good thing Foxie remembered," she flashed a toothy smile his way. "I'll make sure to get your cake done as fast as I can. You know what? Come back in three and a half hours. If it isn't done then, it's free. That sound like a good deal?"

"She, you don't have to—"

"Oh goodness, I better get started then!" Sheila yipped to herself. "Remember, three and a half hours!" With that, she spun around, flailing her eruption of excessively long hair as if it were in a shampoo commercial to recycle an old joke. As she disappeared behind the back doors, both Fox and Vince both turned red when they realized that apron _was_ the only thing she was wearing.

"Seriously," Fox mumbled. "Fan-service in this story too?"

"Could be worse," Vince commented. "At least she was wearing the apron at all."

Fox shrugged his shoulders. "True."

 **[X]**

The next stop on the duo's laundry list was the local supermarket. A massive expanse of corporate property encompassed in a steel shell that sold everything from lingerie to car parts to fresh produce. Once they cleared the automatic doors, Vince shoved a piece of paper into his chest.

"Get moving, Fox," Vince said urgently. "Sheppard wasted too much time taking that Calculus exam and now we've only got less than two hours before Phoenix gets home. We need to hurry and get something."

Fox looked down at the list to see a sea of hastily scribbled down words in what looked to be a distinguishable language of some sort. "What do I need to get?"

"I'll get the more… personal stuff," Vince sheepishly chuckled, stealing the paper back. "Let's not disclose too many secrets, okay? I don't want to get arrested here."

"Then what do I need to get?"

"Find a card," Vince suggested. "I'll worry about everything else."

Fox laughed to himself. "I'll make sure to pick out **_the_** gayest card you've ever seen."

"Fox, be serious here," Vince reprimanded. "This isn't the last decade; that kind of talk is offensive to some people."

"Did you take offense to what I said?" Fox asked.

Vince laughed aloud. "Of course I didn't, the hell if I care. I just wanted to see how you'd react."

"You just want to inflate the word count with pointless jokes," Fox commented.

"Precisely, now go get a card."

Fox made his way over to a long isle lined with thousands upon thousands of cards on either side. Luckily, they were all categorized by the type of celebration or event their subject matter was about, so Fox went down the line until he located the birthday section. As he scanned over the cards, however, a realization hit him.

"How old is Phoenix?" Fox muttered to himself. "He can't be much older than I am, but I don't know… Vince did say that Phi was a lot younger that he was, so I guess I could make an educated guess…"

His fingers passed by card after card, but nothing seemed to jump out at him. Finding a card for Krystal was much easier since at least he knew what her interests were, but Phoenix was literally an entirely different person. The minutes seemed to tick by, and Fox started to feel a little pressure. Surely there had to be something here?

Towards the back of one row, the vulpine noticed a card that stuck out from the others. It was pure black, and how it was covered by the other cards, a sliver of metallic silver words peeked out and reflected the overhead flood lights. Perplexed, he pulled it out to look. He immediately smirked.

Written in that metallic silver lettering was " **20 motherfucker** ," and when he opened it, that same lettering continued **"…and you better respect it**." He found a winner.

With card and envelope in hand, Fox stepped out of the isle and looked around for Vince. It didn't take long to spot him, as he was the whitest shade of white you could get without becoming blind. He was waving his hand to try to hurry him along, since he already had a plastic shopping bag with a few indecipherable gifts inside.

Fox stepped up to the open checkout lane and self-scanned his card. He then took out a single credit from his wallet and put it in the machine. …Only for the damn thing to spit it right out. Fox didn't pay any mind to it and just reinserted the credit, but it wouldn't accept it. Fox flipped it over and stuck it in; still nothing. He put that credit away and found a new one, but the machine wouldn't take that one either. Fox began to get a little upset as he tried to force the credit in, but to no avail.

"Are you actually retarded?" Fox grunted at the machine. "Why?"

"Try turning it off and then on again," Vince suggested.

"I can't turn this thing off," Fox replied. "It's just being a fat piece of furry crap right now. Come on you literal dumpster fire, I need to get this story finished, but I can't because you're being an ungrateful disgrace to technology."

"Here," Vince grunted, pulling Fox away to insert his own credit. The machine accepted it right away, spewed out the change, and then played a happy little chime reminding Fox to shop again soon. "See, that wasn't so difficult. Let's go get that cake."

"Wait, hold up just one second," Fox fumed, glaring at the check-out station.

"Fox, please don't get triggered by the machine," Vince pleaded.

"Is my money not good enough for you?" Fox growled. "Is there a problem with my money?"

"Fox, let's go," Vince repeated.

Fox gave one last stare to the machine. "You can go fuck off, grow up, come back, and then fuck off again for all I care."

"Easy with the language there," Vince chuckled, obviously embarrassed. "We already used our one allotted vulgar swear."

"Sorry, I just didn't like that machine."

"Clearly. Let's get the cake now."

"Wait, what about Maxx's?" Fox asked.

"I'll go there off-camera. We're a little pressed for time in case you couldn't tell. Besides, tt's not a place for this story rating anyway."

 **[X]**

Fox and Vince stared in awe at the cake placed before them. Sheila, completely covered in multifarious hues of frosting and looking entirely content with it stood as happy as could be, seemingly gloating over her creation.

"Told ya," she smirked.

"That's one impressive cake," Fox muttered. It was a plain white sheet cake with a perfectly detailed picture of both Phoenix and Vince hugging each other drawn with nothing but frosting. Underneath it written in green lettering said "Happy Birthday Phoenix." Vince, practically drooling overtop the cake, ripped out his wallet and threw a handful of credits onto the counter; not even bothering to count them out.

"Did I do a good job?" Sheila asked, although she already knew the answer.

"This is perfect as usual, Sheila," Vince smiled. "Thank you so much for doing this."

"Hey, if it gives me an excuse to be in this story, I'll take it," she smiled back. "Tell Phoenix happy birthday for me. Oh, and I hope to see you again soon Foxie!"

Fox helped Vince load the cake in the back seat of his roadster, and moments after they were on their way back home. Only half an hour to spare.

"Fox, thanks," Vince said thoughtfully. "I still can't believe I forgot."

"I'm just glad I could help," Fox smiled back. "You know how much I care about you two."

Vince merely nodded.

When they got back to Vince's house, they were surprised to see Phoenix's car in the driveway. Vince immediately began to panic ever so slightly, but Fox calmed him down and told him the plan. Fox went first to unlock the door, with Vince and the cake closely following. As Fox opened the door, Phoenix's voice began to speak up.

"Vinny, I thought you said you weren't going anywhere today—" he started, but froze when he wound the corner and saw both Fox and Vince. And the cake.

"Happy birthday Phoenix," Vince said happily, stepping inside and laying the cake on the table. Phoenix wasted no time in lunging forward to hug Vince with all of his strength.

"Wow, this is so amazing!" he said excitedly, mesmerized by the cake. "You're amazing! I can't believe you did this for me."

"You can thank Fox too," Vince pointed at the vulpine in the doorway. "He helped me with everything."

"Thanks so much Fox," Phoenix flashed a smile. "You're welcome to stay for cake if you'd like."

"Oh, no thanks: I should probably get back home to the wife," Fox said as he slowly backed out of the doorway.

"Nah, what he really wants is to wrap this story up so that he can get it posted in time," Vince smirked.

"Well, yea, I guess you're right there," Fox chuckled. "Anyway, I'll let you two enjoy yourselves. Happy birthday Phoenix."

Both Vince and Phoenix waved as Fox shut the door behind him. Breathing a content and relief-filled sigh, he traveled back to his car and just sat in the driver's seat to collect his thoughts. After a few moments, Fox pulled out and drove off, reentering the never-ending expanse of cornfields yet again.

Off in the distance, hundreds of wind turbines spun around and around as that cool autumn breeze just continued to blow.

 **[X]**

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* * *

 **And you said I couldn't do it.**

 **Happy birthday Elarix! I will forever respect my elder of two years. Hopefully that was good enough for something I whipped up on a whim and with limited time and with my awful writer's block. I need to work on my humour. All of my jokes always involve some sort of fourth-wall breakage. I need to get out of that trend.**

 **Anyway, yeah… that's about it.**

 **…**

 **Shit, I still have to finish my Psychology Report. Fahk.**

 **—Sheppard**


End file.
